"Dora, of course. And some one to meet her, I suppose? Whom shall we say? I think George Ashurst is an eligible who would just suit her. He is not exactly brilliant, but he is thoroughly good-hearted, and a baronet, with unlimited coin."
"I don't think Dora would like him if he is stupid," I say, doubtfully.
"Oh, he is not a fool, if you mean that; and he has as many golden charms as would make a duller man clever."
"Ah! who is mercenary now?" I say, lifting a finger of conviction.
"Am I? You see what comes of marrying a man of the world. Now, had you seen as much life as I have you might be equally unpleasant."
"But I don't think you unpleasant, 'Duke."
"Don't you? There is consolation to be found in that. And now whom would you like to invite, darling?"
"I would like Billy," I say, disconsolately; "but he is never in the way when wanted, like other boys. And Roly is in Ireland, by special desire, of course. And I would like mother, only—-"
"Perhaps you would like the whole family?" says my husband, mildly.
"Yes, I would," I return, with alacrity; "every—-" I was going to say "man jack of them," but thinking this—though purest English to Billy's ears—may be considered vulgar by mere outsiders, check myself in time, and substitute the words "every one of them," rather tamely. "All, that is, except papa; I doubt if he could be amiable for two hours together. But where is the use in wishing for what I cannot have?"